Page 31 of Five Fingers of Death

“You know, I’m seriously reconsidering your employment,” Wyatt grumbled from the back seat.

“I’m about to be a father, and now you want to cut me out of a job?” Asher snapped.

“I’ve been shot!”

“I’m having a baby!”

Wyatt jabbed a finger in my direction. “She’s having a baby. You’re just the sperm donor.”

Okay, that was slightly offensive. “How about we all just calm down a minute?—”

“I would just like to say that you both deserve this,” Noelle chimed in. “After all the nauseating crap you put me through at the grocery store, the bank, the gas station—it’s about time you get a non-Hallmark baby moment!”

“That’s a little harsh,” I muttered.

“Can we just focus on getting out of here alive?” Asher shouted, ending the argument.

I closed my eyes, biting my lip as another wave of nausea washed over me. I breathed through it, praying I could just hold it in. We didn’t exactly have time to pull over so I could throw up. But when Asher took another turn way too fast and then hit the gas, it just bubbled up in my throat, and that was it. I bent forward and hurled right there at my feet.

“Well, that’s one way to make this more exciting,” Noelle murmured.

Sitting up, I wiped my mouth, glancing over at Asher. “Sorry about your truck.”

“We have to ditch it anyway.”

Well, at least there was that.

“Feel better?”

“Not until we get my parents.”

“We’re almost there, Holly bear.”

Now I just had to hope I made the right call and didn’t trade my parents’ lives for Wyatt and Noelle’s. I didn’t know how to feel about the decision I made, and I hadn’t examined it all too closely yet. But the fact was, we’d spoken to my parents. Wyatt wasn’t picking up the phone.

Asher slowed down as we approached the police station, his eyes tracking every vehicle as we approached.

“What are you looking for?”

“Even the police can be bought.”

“You think the police are going to kill us?” I asked incredulously. “They can’t do that!”

“Baby, I don’t think the police are going to kill us, but if there’s a dirty cop, he’ll be waiting for us out here.”

Suddenly, I didn’t like the idea of being out here at all. Every person in the parking lot looked like someone who wanted to kill us.

“How are we going to do this?” I asked, rubbing my hands on my jeans.

“I’m going to get them,” he said, parking right in front of the building. “Stay here.”

“Stay here? You just said someone’s going to kill us!”

“I said someone could. Not that they would.” He pulled his gun out and slid something metal out, then back in. I had no idea what he was doing. Then he held it out to me.

“What are you doing?”

“Take this.”

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